


So Many Days, So Many Ways

by ReincarnatedEgyptian



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Frotting, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, NSFW, Oral Sex, Romance, Sex, fapping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-03-26 16:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13861455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReincarnatedEgyptian/pseuds/ReincarnatedEgyptian
Summary: A 30-day challenge for NSFW OTP stories. But romance and substance are also to be found.





	1. Day 1: Cuddling (naked)

**Author's Note:**

> Day one of a 30-day challenge for NSFW OTP stories. This day one challenge is cuddling naked. But don't worry, there's plenty of romance and substance, too.

Their quarters smell of incense and semen, soap and stale vegetable chips laid out too long. Jim knows Spock wouldn’t approve of such a mess, but currently Spock is too spent—and too unconscious—to care, as he’s passed out next to Jim in what was once Jim’s bed but has now become their bed, their abode, their refuge, their haven. 

Prior to last night, the two had been separated for two weeks at the behest of the newly established Vulcan High Council, that required Spock’s presence on New Vulcan. Jim had been hesitant to approve Spock’s request for temporary leave, and as Spock requested it Jim could sense his hesitancy too—since the two had started seeing each other seriously, Jim had to admit they’d kinda become that couple that hated being apart for five seconds. But at least the knowledge of Spock’s absence meant some saccharine, soft and romantic sex followed by the sort of rough sex that left Jim more achey than he’d ever been even on the roughest away mission. 

He’d pressed a chaste kiss to Spock’s mouth just before Spock beamed down to the planet, and as Jim left the room following Spock’s leaving, his gaze dared anyone in the transporter room to say anything, especially given the blatant makeout session Spock and Uhura had had years back. 

And after Spock had left Scotty had aptly filled in as First Officer, and remained hopped up on enough energy and probably a mix of coffee and whisky to keep himself needed when on the bridge and in Engineering whenever Jaylah needed him for something she hadn’t quite mastered. Jim knew it was probably a dumbass decision to let such a new recruit take the reins. But hey, Starfleet Command had essentially handed him the keys to the newest ship following the destruction of the Narada, and when he was just a punk smartass stowaway. 

But despite the circumstances, Jim’s nerves barely danced in those two weeks, with only a minor mission to Nimbus 6 to drop off supplies and then a trip back to Earth for a routine inspection. The Enterprise had of course passed with flying colors basically as soon as they hit Earth’s atmosphere, giving the remaining crew on board (although to be fair the only crew member that was missing was Spock. But for Jim that absence accounted for more than he could say) a couple of days of leave. Jim took this time to take a shuttle to Iowa to visit Winona, who’d opened up their two-story farmhouse as a bed and breakfast following her last breakup with Darryl—a hotel manager who’d lectured her about the benefits of B&Bs, even in the 23rd century. 

Jim left the news of his visit a surprise from his mother, and as he came up the walk as she was feeding chickens in the driveway (yes, chickens), she’d tossed the rest of the feed and stared at him with with a mix of both love and wistfulness, as if she was looking at the ghost of a beloved. And in a way Jim knew she always was; every year on Jim’s birthday she was able to function properly, wishing her son a happy birthday and braving the internal storm to tell him stories about George Kirk that Jim had heard at least 25 times in his short lifespan—stories that never aged for him. 

But by the evenings of Jim’s birthday she always retreated inward to dwell on memories of her husband in private. When Jim was a kid, often he’d crack the door of his room to see his mother coming up the stairs with a glass of wine, wearing a dark blue “Chicago” sweatshirt that belonged to his father, her other hand clutching a photo album to flip through. And after her door would shut, it wouldn’t be but a few minutes before Jim could hear her sobbing. It became somewhat of a tradition as he grew up for Jim to slowly creak the door open and come to her bed, wrapping his arms around her in at least some sort of comfort. And even though she always tensed up at the gesture, she never shooed him away—merely returning his embrace and crying into his shirt. 

So it had taken a moment for Winona to shake herself from her reverie upon seeing Jim coming up the dusty road, but once she did the chicken feed was scattered hastily and she was jogging towards him.

“Jim..honey!” She’d grabbed him and held him tightly, bringing him back to all those memories of childhood, and he silently gave thanks to whatever force was out there that this visit was nowhere near his birthday, which meant the pain and wistfulness in his mother’s eyes wouldn’t be at such an increased level. But of course Winona being Winona she’d shed a few tears into his shoulder and wiped them away, blinking rapidly at the sky as they went into the house.

“I’m just so glad you’re here.” 

He’d smiled and patted her shoulders, looking down into her face, amazed at how much shorter she was than him now, thanks to George Kirk’s genes. 

“Me too, ma.”

**************

“We’ve got some guests coming but none of them are here yet, and your room is yours for however long you’re staying.” 

The two made their way into the kitchen and Jim took a seat at the counter as his mother filled a tea kettle with hot water—a replicator could never touch the real thing, she’d always said, although Jim wondered if she preferred food the non-replicator way because such technology reminded her of Starfleet—and why she was currently running a bed and breakfast without a husband. 

“Well It’s a quick trip—we’re here for a brief respite before our next excursion. Inspection, and all that. Maybe a night or two.” He took a moment to look around the room at all the new midwestern antiques Winona had added to the kitchen area to make guests feel more welcome: rust-tinted models of roosters, a Wegmans Foods sign, some awful prints of what appeared to be farm animal scenes but looked more like something out of the nightmares of Joseph Conrad. But of course he wasn’t about to tell her that. 

Winona knowingly nodded, putting the kettle on the ancient stovetop and turning up the heat before returning to lean over the counter where Jim was sitting, checking his messages on his PADD. So far nothing but spec reports and what appeared to be Scotty’s version of a drunk message. Not what he was hoping for in his inbox. “So how is work and your crew, the missions and all?” She slyly smiled as she noticed him checking his messages absentmindedly. “…How’s Spock?” 

That got his attention. 

She asked the last question with a slightly coy tone, and Jim’s head shot up to meet her eyes before he ducked his head and blushed—fucking blushed—keeping his eyes back on his PADD in order to give himself time to recover. 

“Well…he’s…”

“He’s…?”

Jim finally looked up at her. It’d become pretty common knowledge fairly rapidly that he and Spock had recently started dating—probably because most people had thought they were already dating for quite some time. Admittedly, it had taken years for feelings to finally come to light and for the two of them to be available at the same time, but now that it’d finally happened Jim tried to be as quiet about it as possible. Not necessarily because he was a private guy—although he’d say when it came to things he cared about he was more private than not. But really it was more that Jim was afraid that talking about it would doom it, just like he was afraid that hearing his own heartbeat when he laid down to sleep at night would cause it to stop. Their newfound partnership was only a few months old, newly molded, newly minted and fragile, delicate, but steadily going. And dammit, Jim was probably the happiest he’d been in his fucking life after all these years of wondering what this was between them, and Spock seemed to have felt the same way. 

_“I lost you once,” Spock had whispered against Jim’s jaw in the midst of pressing kisses there the first night they spent together as a couple. “I will not lose you again.”_

__

__

_“You won’t,” Jim had said, pressing their lips and fingers together as Spock moved to lay on top of him._

The mere memory of it made Jim cough in embarrassment and blush yet AGAIN, and caused his mother’s smile to blossom even further. 

“We’re uh, we’re good. It’s going good. Er. well. Grammatically correctly it’s going well.”

The tea kettle began to whistle and Winona lifted it from the stove, giving Jim a momentary reprieve to run his face over his hands and put an end to this damn blushing. “Just good?” she’d asked. 

“I mean, yeah. It’s still so new and all that, it’s kind of hard to say. It’s like, we’ve known each other for years, shared meals together for years and even had to sleep in the same bed on some away missions.” Another blush shades his cheeks at the memory and he can’t believe he’d just said it without meaning to, but no going back now. “It’s like we were already a couple without realizing it, I guess.” 

“Mm hmm.” Winona put a chipped Donald Duck cup—Jim’s old favorite—in front of him, pouring in just enough milk and honey the way he liked it. “I sort of had a feeling about it the last time you two visited.”

Jim lifted his head in interest. “What do you mean?” His expression devolved into one of horror. “Oh god, please don’t tell me I started sleepwalking and talking again. Cause I swear to god if I did and Spock never said anything, this—“ 

He was stopped by a sharp drop of a hot mug in front of him and his mom’s snickering. She put her hands up in capitulation. “Sorry.”

“Thanks,” he muttered and grabbed some sugar cubes from a jar shaped like a cow and stirred them in with a spoon Winona handed him. “As far as I know you’re sleepwalking days officially ended when you were five. Plus, if you were I assume Spock would’ve mentioned it to you by now.” She smiled and he realized she was insinuating she knew they’re already essentially living together. 

He kept his gaze down at the dance between sugar and herbs in his cup. “God, let’s hope so. I’m gonna interrogate him about it when he gets back.” Jim looked up at his mom. “So like, what made you get that feeling, I’ve gotta ask?”

“It was the way you all stared at one another,” Winona said after a beat. “Neither of you seemed to realize it, and I wasn’t about to say anything embarrassing, but it seemed like neither of you noticed. You’d be working in the yard and I’d look over and see him watching you quite a long time before he saw me looking and had gotten back to work. And that night that he read Alice in Wonderland out loud to us that night, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.” 

_Jim remembered that night clearly. Spock had always possessed a soft and tender baritone voice that could lull one to sleep in its gentleness, or could terrify an enemy into surrender with one changed tone. But that night Spock’s voice made Jim feel as alive as an exposed wire, and he’d listened enraptured at every word, even when his bladder was basically screaming at him. And now that Jim reflected back on it, the two had had a moment that felt almost so obvious that Jim didn’t know why he hadn’t just grabbed Spock then and shoved his tongue in his mouth._

_Winona had apologized, saying that even though Spock only had about 20 pages to go in the story she absolutely needed to pass out._

_“It is quite alright, I can complete the story tomorrow?”_

_“No!”Jim had cried, waving his hands like a drunken mad man as he laid on the couch—lack of sleep and being so tired rendered him about as useless as a drunken mad man. “I mean, I want to hear it. Unless Spock is opposed, he could read it again to you tomorrow?”_

_“Is this permissible?” Spock had asked as he moved to close the book, but Winona waved her hand dismissively as she yawned. “That sounds like a plan. Good night boys, don’t stay up too much later! We’ve gotta finish painting the fence sooner than later tomorrow.”_

_“Alright. Goodnight, mom!” Jim had dramatically waved as she’d headed up the stairs. “Sleep well, Mrs. Kirk,” Spock had said, and she’d given a squeeze to both boys’ elbows before heading upstairs. As soon as she was gone Jim had turned his smile back to Spock, who was looking at him patiently, the book still halfway closed in his hands. “Are you certain you are not too tired to hear the remainder of the story? I am not averse to continuing it tomorrow.”_

_Jim had shaken his head a bit aggressively as he continued to lay on his stomach on the couch facing Spock, who sat perfectly upright in a kitchen chair, his more relaxed Vulcan garb that was the equivalent of pajamas still looking fancy enough to dine out in should Spock have decided to. But given they were in the middle of bumfuck Iowa, there weren’t many choices beyond farm-to-table places._

_“It’s fine, Mr. Spock, Keep reading. That’s an order.” He’d snorted and Spock had given him his signature eyebrow raise and inclined head before opening the book back up. “And besides,” Jim had said, the words tumbling out before he realized he should stop them, “I like the sound of your voice.”_

_Spock’s eyes had momentarily widened and he’d ducked his head back down towards the book. Jim had mentally chided himself but soon the moment was forgotten as he’d lost himself in Spock’s voice. And in truth, Spock could’ve pulled out a dictionary or the label on one of the foreign and aged ingredients no doubt buried in the back of Winona’s kitchen cabinets to read, and Jim would’ve found it captivating._

_And as he listened to Spock read he found himself watching Spock as well—watching the lines of Spock’s angular face appear and disappear with the crackling of the bright fire, watching the movement of his lips with each word, watching the way Spock’s hands danced along the pages as he continued on. He was utterly, utterly entranced; so entranced, in fact, that it took him a moment about a half an hour later to realize his first officer was crying. Not loudly, mind you; just a tear or two down his face as he closed the book._

_“Hey, Spock. What’s wrong?” Jim shook himself from his sleepiness and went to grab the box of tissues from the coffee table that were—dammit!—empty._

_“I apologize,” Spock had sniffled as Jim found an unopened box of tissues in the kitchen and had raced them back into the living room. “I must confess, reading this volume often results in an emotional response. It was my one of my mother’s favorite works.”_

_“Well I’d offer you that one,” Jim said as he grabbed some tissues and walked towards Spock, “But it was my father’s…”_

_Spock had shaken his head almost harshly in a rather human gesture. “No, no, I would not presume to take a copy of it. I have one of my own. It is just…after a while of hearing myself read it, it is as if my voice transforms into hers, and it’s like she’s reading to me again.”_

_Unaware of the intimacy of it (or aware but not caring, which is probably closer to the truth). Jim takes one of the tissues and bunches it up, squatting by Spock’s chair and wiping each side of his face gently with the tissue. Spock freezes at the indirect touch, but does not stop Jim, and there’s just this moment, this quick moment that may as well have lasted eons, where Jim’s breath catches as he realizes what he’s done, and for a moment it’s as if he gravitates towards Spock, who remains frozen, his eyes not leaving Jim’s. And then Jim swallows and stands up, unsure of what to say, taking the tear-laden tissue and tossing it in the trash as Spock returns the book to Winona’s bookshelf. Jim stands in the kitchen and doesn’t look back, but waits until he knows Spock is behind him, and then they head upstairs, with only a cordial wishing of a good night’s sleep to one another before they both go in their respective rooms._

_The next morning they paint in silence on the opposite sides of the fence, Jim afraid to even let his gaze fall upon Spock’s, the silence thankfully broken by Jim’s mom, who keeps regaling sweet little tales about George on their first date._

_At that time Jim had thought that his mother was completely oblivious as to what was happening between them, but now he realized she was obviously more aware than she’d let on—giving them a moment alone that night, and telling not just any tales, but romantic tales the next morning. It was like she was playing goddamn matchmaker. Too bad it had taken the boys a few more months following that to become matchmakers of their own._

“Yeah, I guess it is obvious I felt looking back at it all now,” Jim snorts, drinking down the dregs of his tea and wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. “I really do wish he’d gotten to hear his mother’s voice read ‘Alice’ one last time.’”

“Mmm?” Winona inclines her head as she takes a sip of her tea, and Jim realizes he’d never told her what Spock had said that night. Probably because since then he’d not talked about that night at all.

“Oh, after you went to bed Spock got a bit…non-Vulcany when he told me that his mom used to read him Alice in Wonderland. ‘ said he could hear her reading it to him even as he read it out loud.” 

Winona made a sound between a gasp and a hiss; the guttural equivalent of “yeesh.” “I had no idea. If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have had him read—”

“Mom, mom, it’s fine. How were you to know? Hell, he didn’t even tell me until he finished the last paragraph, and that was probably because he was so tired he was gonna cry from exhaustion anyway.”

“He cried?” Jim’s mom got that matronly look all moms get when they don’t care who you are, they’re going to coddle you and comfort you the best they can.

“Like, just a few tears, nothing much. I said some comforting stuff and then we went to bed.” 

Her smirk returned slightly, although it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Did anything happen?” 

Jim laughs and runs his hands through his hair exasperatedly. “Jesus, mom. No. Well. Not really. I guess I kinda wish it had. Now we have to make up for lost time.” 

He smiled up at her and she smiled back, putting her hand over his. And then suddenly she stood up and left the room, coming back a second later with her copy of “Alice” from her bookshelf. She wipes the dust off spine and puts it on the counter in front of Jim.

“I want Spock to have this.”

Jim swallows. “No, mom, you don’t have to. It was dad’s, and Spock didn’t ask for it or anything.” 

Winona nodded, appearing to swallow back her own tears. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” She pauses a beat and looks up at Jim. “Both of you have faced such adversity. Both of you have lost a loved one to the same maniacal force. And yet both of you remain so strong, so committed to a family that’s not your blood on that starship. Your father would be proud. And…” She smooths her hands over the worn copy as if saying goodbye. “And I have enough to remind me of your father. His ghosts will never leave me, no matter how many of his things I give away. But Spock has so little of his mother’s. So if I can contribute to his collection…I want to.” 

Jim got up from his seat and walked around to hug her, letting her sob into his shirt just like she did when he was young. 

*********

The night Spock returns Jim is not there to greet him at the transporter pad. It’s the equivalent of 4 a.m. GMT, and Spock was not due to return to the Enterprise for another 12.26 hours. But as projects were finished early, he’d explained to Jim later, he wanted to return home. 

Home. His home. Their home. He is home. 

So that night when Jim hears his quarter doors slide open he goes to grab for his phaser under his bed before seeing the emerging shadow of a blue-clad figure standing stoically. Jim jumps out of bed and Spock drops his bag as Jim crashes into him, hugging him tightly and breathing in his scent. They stand like this for a few minutes before Jim stops and lets Spock collect himself and unwind. They talk about their respective time apart (“I wish you’d messaged me at least once, Spock.” “I apologize, captain. We are having the equivalent of ‘internet connection issues’ at this time.”) And then Spock takes Jim’s face in his hands and cradles him like he’s the most fragile creature, before ghosting his lips over his until Jim can’t take it anymore and kisses him within an inch of his fucking life like he should have that night they read “Alice.”

“Alice.”

“Wait.” Jim breaks the kiss and Spock makes a very interesting sound in his mouth at the severed kiss, and then Jim is back with the copy of “Alice in Wonderland” in hand, giving it over to Spock who examines it and then looks up at Jim.

“Jim, did you take—“ 

“Nah. I’m a scumbag, but not that much of a scumbag.” Jim runs his hand though his hair anxiously. “No, mom gave it to me to give to you. We started talking about you a bit and she said she wanted you to have it. Said maybe it’ll help you hear your mother’s voice more.”

Spock nods and moves his hand along the cover like Winona had, and he looks up at Jim, his eyes wet like they were that night on the farm. And this time Jim doesn’t hesitate as he leans in and kisses the tears away before the two are caught in a passionate embrace that leaves them spent and restful through the night, clutching onto one another like they’re each other’s respite from everything. 

********

Surprisingly the next morning it’s Jim who wakes first, and with an equally naked Spock slightly snoring next to him he’s not sure if Spock is so spent because of the stressers of helping to organize a new colony, or all the sex. Probably all the sex Jim thinks, nodding sagely. He is goddamn good at it. He notices the copy of “Alice” on the floor next to him and reaches down to pick it up before covering himself in the blankets again, opening the text to a random page and reading out loud quietly. 

“‘I wish I hadn’t cried so much!’ said Alice, as she swam about, trying to find her way out. ‘I shall be punished for it now, I suppose, by being drowned in my own tears! That will be a queer thing, to be sure! However, everything is queer to-day.’”

Jim snorted a bit at the vocabulary, acknowledging that the meaning of words often changed. And as he continued reading out loud he felt two arms snake around his waist and pull him down horizontally again, as Spock cuddled him from behind, his lips against Jim’s neck as Jim stopped.

“No, no,” Spock says in between small neck kisses. “Please, keep going. Your voice is..soothing to me.” 

Jim turns around and caresses Spock’s chin with his hand, giving him a quick peck. “Will do,” he says softly. “And if you hear your mother’s voice too, let me know.” 

He turns around and feels Spock nod into his spine as his arms remain pinned around Jim, keeping him warm and steady as the two lose themselves in “Alice.”


	2. Day 2: Kissing (naked)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two of a 30-day challenge for NSFW OTP stories. Day three (first time) will be a sequel to this piece.

Jim might as well be in the middle of a medical examination under the scrutinizing yet slightly professional eye of Dr. McCoy with the way he feels in this moment. But he’s not in medbay, and as far as he knows Bones is nowhere in the room. However, he is stark naked, as he would be during an exam, and is standing in Spock’s quarters, Spock standing clothed in front him, taking in the sight before. 

Spock’s gaze is hard to read (when is it not hard to read?) as he looks over every inch of Jim’s naked body, although if Jim had to sum up the expression in a word he’d call it clinical. He’s reminded of Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, and wonders if he should stick his arms and legs out in emulation. He wonders if Spock would get the reference—but it’s science, and pretentious, and fascinating, so of course Spock would. But before Jim can linger more on it Spock inclines his head. 

“Are you alright, Jim?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah. Sure. Peachy keen.” 

Spock studies Jim’s face as if he’s looking for something in his expression. And Jim’s not sure if he finds it or not, but Spock looks away and goes back to studying Jim’s form, and Jim’s half hard just thinking about the fact that he’s naked in Spock’s quarters for the very first time. Spock still wears his uniform and Jim takes this time to study him as well, noticing a pretty prominent bulge in Spock’s pants. 

Normally Jim would walk up to Spock and cup Spock’s clothed erection, or, hell, would even bend down and lick at it while maintaining eye contact with his lover, but he specifically is not doing that at Spock’s request. 

Not yet, anyway. 

The two more or less began courting about a month ago, but being Spock is half Vulcan and therefore fully prudish, the two have moved quite slowly—almost glacially. And normally Jim would be more cranky about it, but the fire he feels even being in the same room as Spock is practically enough. It’s as if a phaser has been pressed to his skin, the charge dancing throughout his body every time Spock touches him. The cliche “electricity up the arm at the touch of a beloved” is absolutely true. 

Their first foray into romance began with Spock introducing Jim to the concept of the Vulcan kiss as they played a game of Chess in Jim’s quarters, Jim teaching Spock (who hadn’t played Chess somehow. A nerd. Not playing Chess?) where each piece should go; taking advantage of learning how to Vulcan kiss by letting his fingers rub against Spock’s slightly as he guided his hand through different moves. By the time the evening was over Spock was flushed green and rather quiet, and Jim wondered if he’d gone too far. He meant to apologize the next day, but as he sat down across from Spock in the mess hall later that day Spock had easily extended his two fingers to Jim, who gladly returned the kiss, making sure to keep his movements absolutely still this time.

The next step was handholding. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much opportunity to do it. Gender aside, Jim walking through the halls of the enterprise swinging his and Spock’s hand along as they practically skipped along wouldn’t exactly improve morale, per se, so he refrained. And trying to hold hands as they ate together or played chess together would be quite the inconvenience. Instead they do it on Spock’s bed of all places, after Spock having let Jim into his quarters one evening as Spock is going over some briefings before the next shift, his reading glasses adorable as fuck as they continue to fall further down Spock’s nose. He pushes them back up with one finger like an anime character. 

Jim made a mental note to ask Spock sometime if they can fuck with the glasses on. He stood there at Spock’s doorway and Spock looked up at him, the corners of his lips upturning in a small smile as he did the totally human gesture of petting the part of the bed next to him, inviting Jim over.

Jim took off his shoes, imagining the look on Spock’s face if he kept them on while laying on top of what he suspect is the finest silk in the whole damn galaxy, and sat next to Spock gingerly, hoping he didn’t disturb any of the PADDs Spock had strewn about on the bed (and by strewn about, he means two in front of Spock—a racket for a Vulcan). 

“Hi,” he’d said sheepishly as he looked over at his boyfriend, and Spock had look at Jim from over his glasses, the smile on his face stronger.

“Hello, Jim,” Spock had said, the word “Jim” coming out of his mouth like it’s a prayer, something to behold. 

Jim had extended two fingers and Spock had met them easily, before surprising Jim by holding it and laying it between them as he went on reading. Jim had just sat there for a moment, his heart gushing like a fucking balloon. And it was in that moment as Spock stopped his reading when he realized Jim was smiling at their hands, and used his thumb to brush over Jim’s knuckles as he smiled at Jim, that Jim realized he truly, honestly, deeply was committed to this love he felt for Spock. Given that they’d only gotten to like, half of first base if that, he hadn’t said it then, though the words did make themselves comfortable just on the inside of Jim’s pursed lips.

Their first kiss took place just outside of Jim’s quarters after Jim had taken a hard pounding—by losing chess to Spock. Spock had stood just outside Jim’s door smiling at him. Jim’s heart flipped every time that private smile emerged just for him—and it was appearing more and more. Jim had returned Spock’s smile and made some sort of quip about losing—at this point he couldn’t remember what he’d said, as he had been too focused on the literal body heat traveling off of Spock and filling the somewhat close space between them. 

Jim had taken a step forward to finally offer his fingers in a kiss to Spock, who let his fingers rest against Jim’s momentarily, And he had seemed to be teetering on the verge of something, but what, Jim didn’t know. And just as Jim started to ask him what was wrong Spock had leaned forward and cupped Jim’s face with his other hand, pressing their lips together in a warm, tentative kiss. At first, it was just lips meeting, until Jim opened his mouth and Spock his as well, and then their tongues were meeting and Jim’s arms wrapped around Spock, pressing him to him, and one of Spock’s hands remained cupped to Jim’s cheek, his other hand wrapping around Jim’s waist. They continued on for minutes until Jim knew Spock could feel Jim’s hard-on through his pants, and Spock had parted ways with Jim slowly, his lips the last thing to leave Jim as Spock used a finger to trace along Jim’s forehead. 

“Goodnight, Jim,” were his parting words before the door shut. That night Jim had let his hard-on linger in his pants, despite his urge to take care of it. Obviously he didn’t consider it cheating to masturbate while seeing someone, necessarily, but it still felt right to hold onto it, to finally let himself release when Spock was there to witness it—maybe to even be the cause of it. 

So that’s what led to the situation Jim was in now, standing stark naked and half-hard in front of his boyfriend, who was studying him like a mortician might do right before cutting into a body. But despite Jim’s hard-on he knew sex wouldn’t happen that night. Nope. Instead, Spock had requested that they kiss naked. Which Jim found a bit odd—after all, he remembered when he was a kid and he didn’t know what sex was. When he’d watched a movie with it and the two leads were naked, his mother had flushed a dark pink before turning off the movie and explaining to Jim that sometimes adults liked to take off their clothes and kiss because it let them be closer to one another.

Jim just didn’t think he’d ever be in that situation. 

He was hoping that Spock might be bold enough start stroking Jim right there, but even this felt hot enough to possibly get Jim off in some sort of tantric way. As he did during their first kiss, Spock wraps himself around Jim and presses his hand to Jim’s cheek, his hand splayed against Jim’s naked waist, and Jim wants to apologize for his erection pressing up against Spock again, but this time he can feel that Spock is hard as well, and he’s not jumping back like he had before. 

And then Spock severs the kiss much too soon for Jim’s liking and begins pulling his uniform shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor in a neat pile, because Vulcans are so fucking perfect even in the midst of passion, and begins to unbutton his uniform pants, letting them slowly slip to the floor and kicking them off and his shoes off in an almost totally human way. 

Then Jim is doing as Spock had, taking in all of Spock’s figure, including his gorgeous, green-tinted erection, and Jim can’t wait to play with it when it’s time, to make Spock moan and gasp and feel, dammit, fucking feel, feel fucking. And then Spock is giving Jim such a loving look that if Jim were in a Jane Austen novel bodices would definitely be heaving, and again wraps himself up in a kiss from Jim Kirk that captures both of their breaths, their bodies pressed against one another, erections prominent but untouched. 

They kiss like this for hell, Jim guesses 20 straight minutes? It’s probably the hottest thing he’s ever done, even though he knows no sex will be happening tonight. And it’s also so romantic and saccharine that Jim doesn’t know what to do with himself, loses himself too much in the emotions of it all, and pulls his lips away from Spock’s before turning them to Spock’s eyebrows, a kiss placed on each; to Spock’s forehead, which is sweaty and tastes delicious once Jim has licked his lips; to Spock’s jaw so well-shaped and defined and just perfect, so damn perfect; and finally to the lobe of Spock’s ear before the words finally tumble out as they had been wanting to for so long.

“I love you, Spock,” he whispers, Spock shuddering as Jim blows hot breath into Spock’s ear. “I love you so fucking much.”


	3. Day 3: First time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day three of a 30-day challenge for NSFW OTP stories. This is a sequel to day two: kissing (naked).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sequel to the previous chapter: day two: kissing (naked).

So. They’ve said the L word. Well, Jim has anyway. And they’ve kissed, first with fingers, then with mouths, then with _mouths_ , naked, against one another, wanting to penetrate but not doing so. Spock has yet to be in Jim, and the words Jim hopes to hear have yet to leave Spock’s mouth. And of course you’re not technically supposed to say you love someone and fully expect them to say it back but like….you do. Otherwise you’re just laying yourself out there to be flattened by the steamroller of reality that you’re experiencing unrequited love.

But then again, the naked erection of Spock’s that Jim had felt against his leg not two nights ago would say he feels _something_ , at least physically. But Jim’s the kind of guy to overanalyze every goddamn detail of everything—it’s a necessity when 400+ souls are in your care. But in the last 36 hours or so, when he’s been on the bridge, eating in the mess hall, been in his room, he’s been overthinking his last interaction with Spock. 

The evening ended with Jim so tempted to just get on his knees and take Spock into his mouth before Spock bending Jim over any surface and ramming into Jim so hard that sitting at his chair the next day would be a chore. But of course he won’t rush his boyfriend. And yet in the last 36 hours while Jim has been overanalyzing their last encounter, he’s also had to overanalyze the fact that Spock has more or less been avoiding him. 

Jim truly thought nothing of it the morning before when Spock had not turned around from his console to give Jim his ritual inclination of his head when Jim had entered the bridge—Spock was a busy man, and given that in a week’s time they were due for a visit on Semitar—a planet of beings whose life goal it is to question every little thing—he was most likely making sure he would leave no question for them unanswered. 

But when his shift was over Jim had made to exit the bridge but stopped a few feet from Spock’s console, hesitant to disrupt Spock, who was engrossed on whatever information was on the PADD in front of him. 

“Uh, Mr. Spock?” Jim had finally asked in practically an exaggerated whisper. “Would you like to join me for a meal in the mess hall?” Honestly, it was rather odd that he’d had to ask, given that Spock would typically either send Jim a message about a meal near the end of their shift, or would have the balls to just come over and ask Jim in person—and Jim always obliged. 

Spock’s eyes never left his PADD as he said in his typically professional, but this time almost chipped, voice. “I am not hungry at present, but I thank you for the invitation.”

“Oh. Okay. Uh, a drink, then?”

“You know I do not imbibe alcohol, Captain.” 

“No no,” Jim ran his hands through his hair, “I just meant regular drinks. We could talk about Semitar over a couple of ice waters?”

Again, Spock had not looked up, and for a second Jim thought Spock had not heard him. He meant to ask again, but before he could Spock answered, his tone even more chipped this time. 

“No. I do not require any refreshment at this time. Thank you for your invitation, but I would like to remain here at present to complete my work.”

He glanced in Jim’s directly briefly as if to dismiss him, but did not look at him, but the tone in Spock’s voice must be so evident that even Uhura is looking over at Jim with a sympathetic eye.

Jim swallowed back any emotion and inclined his head, imitating Spock. “Very well,” he said, and he could tell there was hurt in his voice. He’d been berated by captains, Klingons, and even a drunk Ferengi who’d not slept in three days, and none of it bothered him. But this one little awkward exchange and Jim was holding back tears?

Love was just…it made you pathetic.

That’s exactly how Jim had felt as he’d sat down in the mess hall to pick at the mystery meet and possibly edible pasta on his plate. Others like Scotty and Keenser had attempted to entertain him in conversation about no nonsense things and then minor mechanical issues, but Jim’s mind could only focus so much, so his answers were much like Spock’s—short and to the point. The duo had left with Scotty clearly reading Jim’s “leave me be” vibes, and Jim made a mental note to buy him a bottle of scotch as an apology. 

He was just about to take one more stab at what was surely cold noodles at that point when a tray was placed on the table across from him. 

“You mind if I sit here?” Uhura said, and her eyes and voice were filled with sympathy and..something else. Understanding, perhaps. Understanding of what he was going through. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jim had finally managed as Uhura took a hearty bite from her salad, Jim watching as she picked up something small and burgundy from inside the bowl, popping it into her mouth.

“Dried cranberries,” she explained at his expression. “Spock turned me onto them, really.”

Thinking about Spock and Uhura once being a couple made Jim’s heart ache, though he had no reason to and he knew he was being fucking ridiculous with all of this. Spock had been a bit cold the past few hours, but this was Spock for Christ’s sake. He wasn’t exactly about declaring his love over an open ship-wide channel. And he hadn’t broken up with Jim or anything…yet, anyway. But still, after being so exposed literally and figuratively to Spock, and to have Spock act like this felt like…rejection.

“What?” Uhura said, and Jim realized he’d said the last word out loud.

“Oh, uh, rejection.”

“From Spock?” she asked, already knowing the answer. And Jim was hesitant to continue on further. Technically it was possibly a bit too personal for a working relationship (then again he was dating his first officer), and didn’t he usually annoy the hell out of Uhura to where she didn’t want to hear anything from him but work talk? Then again, she was the only other person he knew who’d had their tongue in Spock’s mouth before, so maybe she’d have some insight into his psyche.

So finally he’d let out a sigh as he continued to swirl his pasta around his spork. “Yeah.” 

He looked up and she was still looking at him as if inviting him to say more. “Are you sure you wanna hear this?” He sat up straighter. “I mean for one, he is your ex. Two, I’m your boss. And three,” he counts with his finger, “I thought I annoyed the hell out of you.” 

She smiled and looked down in amusement, like she couldn’t believe she’s letting herself have this conversation. “All three are true,” she said, but smiled up at him with genuine warmth. “But I know what it’s like, not knowing what he’s thinking and being afraid to try and even ask. It’s like…”

“Emotional limbo,” Jim offered.

“Yeah,” Uhura said. 

Jim shifted in his seat. “So how did you deal with it? ….If I may ask,” he tacked on diplomatically.

She looked pensive, focusing on a spot behind Jim and yet not looking at anything at all. “I’d talk, honestly. I mean, communication is literally my job. So I tried to keep that channel open as much as I could. But it’s…difficult. There are times he simply won’t budge. It’s like at times he’s even too Vulcan for Vulcans.” 

Jim smiled at that and then felt despair, remembering how so few Vulcans were left, and agonies Spock surely must still have been fighting over the death of his mother. Some battles you’ll never win, and you’re not meant to.

Jim hung his head as he reflected on his shame. “I said such awful things to him that day on the bridge. I apologized a few days later and he said he’d understood, telling me about Ambassador Spock and all that.”

He’d looked pointedly at Uhura. “Wait, he told you all about that, right? Cause if not, you’re in for a mind fuck.”

“He did. He probably told me before he told you.”

Jim felt a pang of something, and Uhura looked conciliatory as she noted his expression. “Jim, honestly, I can’t promise it won’t be tough with him. Trying to get him to open up and be a little more human…it was probably the toughest thing I’ve ever done. And I guess none of us really wanted to continue it.” 

She placed her hand over Jim’s and gave it an encouraging pat, and Jim felt a warmth flow through him at her touch and her honesty, even though what she was saying was the opposite of encouraging.

“But you’re a captain, and a man who’s proven himself to be man to be honored and respected. It’s more than obvious you’re up to the task.” 

He sighed heavily. “Thanks, lieutenant. I just gotta get through this weird 36-hour patch and then hopefully things’ll smooth back over.” 

“Yeah..” she tapered off. 

“And hey,” he said, his voice taking on a huskier tone as he’d winked at her. “If we don’t work out, you know where to find me.” 

Her smile immediately evaporated as she’d rolled her eyes and gathered her salad. “Oh my god. I’ll see you on the bridge.” And there she left Jim, laughing as he watched her leave. 

******

Uhura’s words had comforted him for approximately five minutes after she’d walked away before he’d fallen right back into despair at the sight of Spock exiting the cafeteria with his typical order of a salad and water—basically cow food, Jim always joked. As he exited he’d briefly made eye contact with Jim, his mouth going slack for about a millisecond before he’d regained his composure and went to take his place among a group of nerdy botanist types, Sulu included. 

Jim felt like all the wind had just left his body, and he quickly dropped his tray off for cleaning before exiting the mess hall without a single glance back.

He’d taken himself to the gym floor to spar with a group of ensigns, and he got so into the combat of the moment, so focused on nothing else but taking down his opponent, that he’d accidentally kneed one of the ensigns in the groin. 

He apologized to the young man profusely and promised him two days off duty with full benefits to recuperate. The ensign was a sweet little lad, a guy named Kevin Riley who, once he’d stopped whimpering over the injury, had basically fawned over Jim giving him so much attention, and had gladly accepted the two days off, shaking Jim’s hand profusely as he left the gym. 

And that was that.

Jim had returned to his quarters and had stripped, hesitantly opening the entrance to the bathroom that was shared by both men in between their quarters. If Spock wasn’t in there, fine, and if he was maybe Jim could seduce him with his fucking hot body—all that sparring certainly paid off. 

But of course Spock hadn’t been in there anytime recently, and Jim had taken a solitary and quiet shower, letting the temperature get just a bit too hot for comfort to distract him from the pain of his own emotions, and to help scrub off the disaster that was the day. 

He’d put on nothing but a robe and let himself lay on his mattress, staring at the dimly lit ceiling, the ajar bathroom door allowing in the only light of the room. It’s the perfect sleep settings for Jim Kirk—a slightly warm and humid room, with enough water still on his body that the air felt slightly cold; barely any light in the room; and the exhausted feeling that could only come from a hard day’s work—whatever type of work that may be.

But Jim is wide awake, even when he sits up at looks at his clock, which reveals to him that he’s been laying on his bed for exactly 30 minutes staring at nothing and thinking about Spock, nothing but Spock. Spock’s attitude, Uhura’s earlier words about Spock, Spock’s rejection of Jim in the mess hall (he felt his heart wince once again at that one), Spock’s eyes, his inclining head…his lips…his dick.

Hey, that’s a solid plan—literally, Jim realizes as he reaches down through the bottom of his robe to clutch at his growing hard-on. A good solid jerk will make him too tired to think about damn near anything. So he wraps his hand around his cock and gives it a few short jerks, pretending his hand is Spock’s hand like he’s a pathetic middle school boy, when he hears the bathroom door open from the other side. He sits up and looks through the ajar door to make eye contact with Spock, who’s frozen in place, the particles of water left over from Jim’s steaming shower still visible in the air around him. Spock’s expression is unreadable, and Jim finally looks away, lying back down, too mentally and physically exhausted to deal with this, all of a sudden. 

But he knows he has to.

“Are you going to run off again?” he asks from behind his hands, and he doesn’t mean to sound so bitter, but can anyone blame him? 

He hears footsteps and waits to hear the door to Spock’s quarters close or for Spock to close the door to Jim’s quarters, but Spock does neither. Instead, the footsteps get louder and Jim’s ajar door is opened further, bathing Jim in a light that’s suddenly too bright. He shields his eyes and looks up at Spock, who comes to stand by him, doing nothing. Jim mirrors him, does nothing, merely stares up at him as Spock unwaveringly stares right back. 

And just when Jim is about to ask Spock to say something, Spock obliges. “Jim. I believe we need to talk.” 

“No shit,” Jim says, taking a gulp of air, his mind suddenly filled with the panic that Spock is already ready to break up. And over what?? 

“What the hell happened, Spock?” he asks, looking up at his boyfriend’s (at least, he hopes he’s still his boyfriend) unreadable expression. “We’re fine and then all of a sudden you’re avoiding me.”

Spock moves to speak but Jim puts up a hand to stop him. “This is me, Spock. It’s Jim. You know you can tell me what’s wrong. You don’t have to avoid me.”

Suddenly Jim has a thought. “I didn’t do something wrong the other night, did I? If I scared you of by saying that I love you too quickly.” 

“No,” Spock says, crouching in front of Jim and laying one hand on his bare chest that is exposed underneath the robe. “It was not that at all. I am sorry I did not say it back, because I do. Love you as well, Jim.”

Spock’s voice softens on the last word, and he leans up and presses a chaste kiss to Jim’s mouth. Jim’s hands go up to cup Spock’s cheeks, his thumbs rubbing at the skin underneath Spock’s amber-filled eyes. Jim lets the kiss deepen slightly, tempted to pull Spock on top him and have them both horizontal, but he knows they’ve not quite reconciled just yet. So he severs the kiss, as much as it pains him and the growing hard-on under the robe.

“Good,” Jim finally breathes. “So…why did you avoid me, then?”

Spock moves to sit down next to Jim, and Jim pretends he hasn’t noticed that Spock is sporting one impressive hard-on as well. Spock sighs. “Because I knew the next level of intimacy for us would be sexual intercourse.”

Jim lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah? I mean, are Vulcans opposed to it or something?” He hesitates. “If it seemed like I was rushing you, I didn’t mean to. We can take all the time you need, Spock. He rubs Spock’s cheek briefly. “You’re worth it to me. Even if it looks like that hard-on you’ve got could use some taking care of.” 

Jim doesn’t grab for it, just looks at it and then looks up at Spock, who suddenly looks hungry and determined, as if he plans to devour Jim right then and there. Jim shifts, allowing the robe to expose his hard cock against his leg. “And you’re not alone either,” he half-whispers. 

Spock flushes as he looks down at Jim’s swollen cock, and moves as if he’s going to reach for it. Jim closes his eyes in anticipation…then immediately opens them when he feels the bed stir and sees Spock has gotten up and is standing a few feet away, facing away from Jim, hands behind his back in his usual Vulcan stance. 

Finally, he turns around, and he looks like a scared little boy…a scared little boy with some seriously massive wood against his leg. “Believe me, Jim, I want to. Do not doubt that. But I am…”

“What?” Jim asks. 

Spock gingerly walks back towards Jim. “I am scared, Jim. This would…” he breathes. “This would be my first foray into sexual intercourse.”

Jim starts. “You’re kidding.”

Spock shakes his head. “I would not joke about such an important thing at such an important time.”

“Yeah, I know, it was more of a rhetorical…So, you and Uhura never, you know…” Spock raises an eyebrow.

“…did the deed?” Jim finishes. Spock shakes his head again. “No, we did not.”

“But…I mean…I got the impression from the way you all were so hot and heavy on the transporter pad that y’all were going at it like jackrabbits.”

Spock flushes again at Jim’s comment. “Colloquialism aside no, we were not ‘going at it like jackrabbits,’ as you say. But we were…engaging in other forms of intimacy.” 

Jim is suddenly curious, but refrains from asking. The thought of Spock whispering that he loves Uhura while she gives him a handjob is too awkward and frankly too heartbreaking to think about. The thought of Spock with anyone other than Jim breaks his heart a little, and in that moment he realizes how truly, deeply, and fully he’s in love with this man. 

“Spock,” he says, standing and putting his arms on Spock’s shoulders. “It’s okay. We can take our time. We can continue with the naked kisses, or just handholding, or…I mean…” he blushes. “We could try a blowjob or a handjob? Something a little less intense?” Jim goes to reach for Spock’s belt and begins to undo it, and he finds that Spock is not stopping him. But he wants to be sure. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers as sexily as he can into Spock’s ear, and he can almost literally _feel_ the lust pouring off of Spock’s skin as Spock whispers “Yes” as coarse as sandpaper against a surface. 

And that’s all it takes. Jim pulls off Spock’s belt and throws it to the floor before yanking Spock’s pants down, freeing his green-tinged erection. And it’s so goddamn perfect. Deliciously perfect. If Spock were anyone else Jim would get on his knees right there and take Spock into his mouth, making Spock squirm against the wall, or sweating into the bed. But this is Spock; scared, virginal Spock. And Jim will do—or won’t do—whatever he can to keep Spock here with him. 

Jim grabs for Spock’s shirt next, letting his hands go underneath it to press his palms against Spock’s abs. He looks up at Spock earnestly. “Is this okay?” he whispers again. And Spock, looking equal parts aroused and in love, nods and holds his hands over his head so Jim can remove his shirt, and it’s so fucking hot that Jim feels shredded to the bone as he lifts the shirt from Spock’s frame and dives in, letting his hands rub up and down Spock’s chest, pressing firm, wet kisses to Spock’s clavicle, his neck, the landscape of skin just below Spock’s ears.

As he kisses he feels hesitant fingers working at his robe’s sash, and once it’s untied Spock pulls it down off of Jim’s shoulders before wrapping his arms around Jim’s naked frame and kissing Jim with such fervor that Jim works to catch his breath while moving his lips against Spock’s, their tongues exploring each others’ mouth. 

And finally Jim can’t take it anymore, he needs his hands or his lips around Spock’s cock; can feel that the tip of his is already wet. “Spock,” he whispers against his lover’s mouth. “What do you want…what do you want me to do?” he finally breathes out. 

Spock says nothing, merely gives Jim a look of hungry determination as he takes Jim’s hand from where it lies on Spock’s neck and moves it down to Spock’s cock, letting Jim’s fingers get a good solid grip around it, Jim’s thumb rubbing circles against it immediately. 

When Jim was younger, for shits and giggles he’d get a hold of his mother’s old cheesy harlequin romance novels, and so often the books described the main heroine touching the leading man’s “velvet member.” And every time the heroin did, every other basically described it like “taking a long drink of water to quench one’s thirst.” 

But now, as he continues to move his hand faster and faster along Spock’s cock, taking what precome there is and using it as lubrication, Spock’s teeth jamming into Jim’s shoulder, Jim realizes that comparison is pretty damn accurate. But after about a minute of stroking Jim finds the angle is a bit tough to deal with, and he drops to his knees, taking in the image of Spock’s pretty goddamn impressive cock, as Jim continues to milk it. He looks up at Spock hungrily as he wraps his left hand around his right hand and continues to stroke. 

“Is that good?” he whispers, and Spock answers with a contented sigh, letting his hands run through Jim’s hair. Jim continues the motion for a few more minutes before letting his left hand drop to cup Spock’s balls, which are actually a bit fuzzier than Jim would’ve suspected.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and Spock nods, his eyes closed as Jim jerks with one hand and strokes with another. 

“Is there anything else you want?” Jim whispers, and Spock gives him a horny but quizzical look. “Like this?” Jim volunteers, and lets his tongue quickly lap at Spock’s slit. Spock hisses and his hands are so entangled in Jim’s hair that it kind of hurts—but the good kind of hurt. For a second he wonders if, in the future, Spock would be willing to try a bit of BDSM.

But not yet.

Spock mumbles something under his breath and Jim stops his movements, looking up at Spock. “What’d you say?”

“More,” Spock is finally able to articulate, and Jim is more than willing to provide more as he licks Spock’s slit again, maintaining eye contact with Spock. He lets his left hand continue to stroke his boyfriend’s balls as he wraps his right hand at the base of Spock’s cock and lets his lips wrap around the head, sucking anything he can from it, letting his tongue slide over every surface he can. 

Spock whimpers, fucking _whimpers_ , and Jim is so turned on that he takes Spock all the way into the back of his throat and all the way back up, his mouth leaving Spock’s cock with a _pop!_ sound, like a kid with a sucker. 

“More,” Spock whispers again, and Jim obliges, getting back to work on Spock’s cock for several minutes, never letting his eye contact waver from Spock’s euphoric face. Then finally Spock whispers, “stop,” and Jim immediately does, looking up at him inquisitively. 

“You sure? I don’t want you to go anywhere with blue balls.” 

“Blue…balls?” Spock quips, and Jim chuckles, tapping at Spock’s dick like it’s a microphone he’s testing. 

“An erection. I don’t want you to go anywhere without having an orgasm. I mean, unless that’s what you want,” he adds. 

Spock smiles. “I do not want that either.” 

Jim gives him a puzzled look. “So…what do you want to do now?”

Spock pulls Jim up by his arms until they’re both at full height, Jim’s hands pressed against Spock’s chest like a romance novel cover, Spock kissing along Jim’s jaw. “I want you.” 

“Me,” Jim says, and it’s hard not to be distracted by whatever Spock’s tongue is doing to Jim’s ear. “You mean, sex? You want to have actual sex?” 

He can feel Spock nodding as his tongue continues to explore the contour of Jim’s ear, and Jim reaches up and grabs Spock’s face, looking at him in earnest. “Are you sure?” he offers. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don’t wanna do, Mr. Spock. We could do just blowjobs forever if that’s all you wanted.” 

Spock chuckles, actually lets out a chuckle as he looks down at Jim’s lips then back up into his eyes. “As skilled as you are at that particular task…” Jim blushes. “…and as much as I would like to have you perform more in the future, I am certain. I want you. Now.”

He reaches up to cup his own hands to Jim’s face. “I love you, Jim. I am sorry I did not make it more evident sooner. For I do. Love you. And…” he lets the pad of his thumb brush over Jim’s lips. Jim plants a kiss against it. “And if I were to make love to anyone for the first time, it would be you.” 

Jim smiles and fucking kisses Spock within an inch of his life before breaking away. “Wait. We gotta talk logistics first. Who’s gonna top and bottom.” 

Spock raises an eyebrow and Jim sighs. “I mean, who’s gonna penetrate who?”

“Well, what is your usual position?” Spock pauses for a second. “I mean, I was not sure if you have ever had sexual relations with other men..”

“Yeah, I have,” Jim says guiltily like he’s cheated on Spock somehow by having other lovers. “And it’s usually a good mix. Whatever the other partner wants.” He hooks his finger under Spock’s chin. “So what do you want?”

Spock looks pensive for a moment. “I believe I would like to be the…top, did you call it?”

Jim nods. 

“Yes, I would like to penetrate you.” Normally it would sound too medical and Jim would snort, but Spock has a way of saying things so sexily that he could make the dictionary an erotic book with just the right tone of voice. 

Jim flushes. “Okay, cool. Let me just…” He goes to his nightstand and searches for the lube, freezing when he feels breath on his shoulder. 

“What is that?” Spock says, his hand pointing towards a chain in the corner of the drawer. 

“Oh, uh, those are anal beads.”

“Anal…beads?” Spock repeats. 

“Yeah.” 

“And what do they-“

“How about we save that for another time? I don’t wanna scare you off too soon. We’re pacing ourselves, remember?”

Spock wraps his arms around Jim’s chest and kisses into Jim’s neck, which makes finding the lube a bit more difficult, but he can’t really complain too much. “Right,” Spock whispers back.

Finally Jim has located a brand new bottle and shows it to Spock in victory. “Got it.”

“What is it?”

Jim opens the box and tosses it carelessly onto the floor as he opens the bottle. “Lubrication. Makes entering a lot easier and less painful.”

Spock takes the bottle from Jim’s hand and studies it. “I do not believe this will be necessary,” he finally concludes. “Vulcans provide enough natural lubrication to make their surfaces slick enough for proper entry.”

Jim laughs. What the fuck is this, an airport? 

“That may be so,” he says, remembering how hot and slick Spock’s cock was underneath his hands and mouth. “But since it’s your first time and it’s been a while for me, I think we should err on the side of caution. It’s logical, don’t you think?”

Spock gives him a quizzical look before letting his eyes close and his head fall back as Jim takes the bottle back and empties some lube onto his hands, massaging it over Spock’s cock. “Besides, application is half the fun.” 

He continues for a few minutes and then yelps as Spock suddenly makes a grunt noise and lifts Jim up by the waist, tossing him onto Jim’s bed. He lifts Jim’s legs and spreads them to almost a painful position as he works to align the head of his cock with Jim’s hole. 

“Are you sure?” Jim whispers, and Spock nods, although he does look a bit nervous. Jim obviously can’t blame him. He’s a bit nervous too. Technically, while he’s done both positions, Jim is usually more of a top. Maybe he should’ve told Spock that.

Jim must look equally nervous because Spock stops everything and looks at Jim worriedly. “Are _you_ sure?” he mirrors, and Jim just takes in the moment, takes in the sight of Spock about to enter him. Takes in his feelings. He’s so in love with Spock it hurts—the kind of love where once you’ve had each other in every single way it’s still not enough; it’ll never be enough. And he wants Spock. Wants to feel Spock fill him, wants all the pain and pleasure associated with that.

So he nods. 

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he grins, and Spock smiles back before he gingerly begins to push into Jim’s hole.

Jim hisses at the burning sensation and wonders if he’s used enough lube. Spock must be wondering he same thing because he reaches down to use some precise to wipe over his already glistening cock before nodding to Jim, who nods back. Spock once again begins to penetrate slowly, and Jim wants nothing more than to cry out, but doesn’t want to scare Spock. Because it’s a good pain, an exquisite pain, and suddenly Jim becomes the pain, it’s all he is as Spock continues to push in far enough before he begins to fuck Jim—slowly, for a few pumps, before he begins to fuck Jim in earnest. 

Jim feels himself begin to relax into Spock’s embrace, and lets himself moan, let’s himself gasp and yelp and sigh with each thrust of Spock’s hips. Spock is leaning over Jim, his eyes closed in ecstasy, but he opens them up briefly just enough to wrap one hand around Jim’s cock and pump in earnest. And Jim practically sheds a tear at finally feeling Spock’s hand around his own cock. He’s fantasized about it for so damn long, and now it’s happening. 

And between the thrusting and pumping and the fucking hotness of the situation, it’s not long before Jim feels his balls begin to clench. 

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna…” he pants, and then he’s gasping as come pours out of him, covering his stomach and Spock’s hand. Jim is spent but content as Spock gives a few more thrusts before Jim can feel Spock stop, knowing Spock is pouring into him. Then Spock is pulling out of Jim gingerly and collapses on his stomach next to Jim, licking Jim’s come off his hand as he stares down at his lover, and even though Jim’s just come he can swear his dick is already twitching at the sight. 

“Was that satisfactory?” Spock finally teases before pressing a kiss to Jim’s lips. Something sticky comes away as Spock’s lips retreat, and Jim realizes its his own fucking come. He licks his lips then takes some come from off his stomach and licks at it from his finger, staring back at Spock as he does so.

“Hell yeah.” 

And then they’re both laying there, Jim letting his eyes doze as he feels Spock’s hand rub up and down his stomach, smearing more come as he does.

Finally after a few minutes of this Jim starts as he feels Spock’s hand reach down to once again grasp at Jim’s dick. Jim looks up at Spock, who merely quips, “Round two, captain?”

And Jim laughs and laughs.


	4. Day 4: Blowjob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a sequel to my fic Incoming Call, which I initially meant to be a standalone, but honestly BJs are my favorite NSFW thing to write about, and I left it off at a perfect spot to pick it right back up! A bit less substance in this one—just fun. And of course, OOC. But it has to be to work. Enjoy.

_The phone rings again, and Jim looks to see that it’s Komack once again calling Spock. Jim looks up at Spock and grins widely. “Looks like I get to take the test again and test your resolve again sooner than I thought,” he says. And he once again takes Spock’s cock into his mouth as Spock accepts Komack’s call…._

It’s not often he says this, but Jim is being a bit lazy, just letting his tongue lazily lick over the head of Spock’s cock. He knows his goal is to make Spock squirm, to silently beg, to hopefully even cry out as he comes while talking to Komack.

But Jim’s mouth is still a bit tired from all he’s done before. And he’s not had any time between the last call and this one, and for the last call he pulled out all the stops. And all Spock had done was cough. What could he do now that would change the outcome (pun intended)? 

But then he gets an idea. And so he does nothing. Literally. He lets his tongue leave Spock’s slit and just kneels before Spock, massaging just above his knees for a second before leaning back to simply kneel there. 

Spock, who’s now talking to the admiral about all the possible elements that could be located in a star in the Nebula called Dranob II, and from what Jim can understand there’s quite a few, so he figures he’s got some time to psyche Spock out. 

Without breaking eye contact with the screen Spock reaches down with his right hand and begins to stroke himself, holding it up to his belly and then letting it slap back down, as if to say, “Why aren’t your lips here? Bring them back here.” Jim smiles up at Spock but says nothing, but does let one hand massage circles onto Spock’s knee to let him know he’s not done just yet.

But Spock must not understand, as he begins to tuck himself back into his pants, a frown on his face as he listens to what Komack is saying. But Jim smacks Spock’s hands away and wraps his right hand around Spock’s cock, stroking it back to life just once before letting it sit again. Spock lets out a long breath that no one would suspect if they had no idea what was going on, but Jim can tell it’s exasperation, and he feels a bit bad. 

But he’s not done waiting it out yet. So to let Spock know he still means business—albeit, slow business—he presses a quick whisper of a kiss to the head of Spock’s cock, which jumps slightly at the touch. He leans back once again and lays his hands on Spock’s legs, getting within an inch of the spot he just kissed but doing nothing. 

And just as Spock moves his hand once again, assumedly to talk back in after still no action, Jim dives in and wraps his lips around Spock’s head, licking the ever-loving-fuck out of the slit, even more so than before. _Lap, lap, lap, lap,_ up and down, side to side, Jim licks vigorously as he twists his lips around the head. Spock jumps up slightly at the sensation but immediately settles back down, and anyone else would think Spock was simply adjusting in his seat. 

Jim continues this action for a bit before letting himself slide back all the way down on Spock’s cock, his nose hitting a spot that he’s used to seeing with a ton of pubes, but Spock is impeccably shaved—as expected, honestly. As Jim deep throats he opens his eyes and sees that this spot is flushed green, and lets the cock slide from his mouth with a small slap against Spock’s leg. Jim then grips the base of Spock’s cock and simply looks at—for all the fun he’s had with it since the two began their relationship, he’s never really really looked at Spock’s cock. It’s essentially like any other human man’s, save for the length—Jim guesses a minimum 8 inches?—and of course its greenish tint. 

Jim strokes up Spock’s cock and lets it rest against Spock’s stomach as Jim lets himself study the underside of Spock’s cock. It’s just…. _it’s fucking beautiful_ he thinks, with veins along it that are flushed a darker green than the rest. Jim presses a kiss to each and every dark vein he can see, and then goes back and licks up every single vein. He feels Spock push the chair further into the desk and scoots back more, and Jim attempts to move back as well without hitting his head and failing miserably as he bumps the back of it against the desk, the entire thing quaking. 

“What was that, commander?” Komack asks. 

“I apologize, sir, I-“ Spock hisses as Jim once again takes the head in his mouth and laps at the slit in every direction he can think of, using both the top and underside of his tongue, and even applying a small bit of teeth around the head. “It was…my leg. It struck the table.” Spock reaches under the table and runs a caring and gentle hand against Jim’s head in a reconciliation. Jim grabs Spock’s hand and suckles at each finger, and with the sensitivity of Vulcan hands, Spock’s voice sounds lower, deeper, more reverent, like he’s just entered a sacred place as he continues talking to Komack about argon. 

Jim then takes all four of Spock’s fingers into his mouth at once, licking along the pad of each one before taking them and wrapping Spock’s hand around the head of his cock, Jim opening his mouth as wide as possible and taking the fingers and the cock into his mouth, his tongue almost chafed with how much licking it’s done this goddamn afternoon. 

So basically, the perfect afternoon. 

Jim lets his mouth fall off Spock’s fingers and cock and takes Spock’s thumb into his mouth, tugging at Spock’s balls gently with his other hand. And then he takes both Spock’s thumb and cock into his mouth and does a good old fashion up and down suck for a minute before he hears Spock’s slightly higher-pitched voice breathlessly saying, “Understood, sir. I await your call next week.”

And that’s that, and suddenly Spock is off the call and is pushing himself away from the desk, his pants pulled partly down his upper legs, his cock gleaming bright with Jim’s spit. It’s the most beautiful thing Jim’s ever seen. Spock grabs Jim’s chin with one hand and again rubs a hand along Jim’s head to check for any bruising. 

“I apologize, I did not mean for you to injure yourself.” 

Jim snorts. “I’m hurting more in my mouth area. This is one large cock.” Jim amends quickly, “But I worship it.” He grabs it with one hand and looks up at his lover. “Do you still wanna finish? Now that you don’t have to worry about making noise.” 

Spock brushes his thumbs under Jim’s eyes and leans down to press a kiss to the corner of Jim’s mouth. “Yes. But I find I am tired of sitting in this chair. May we finish somewhere else?”

“Sure. But where do you wanna finish?”

Spock gets up and pulls the rest of his pants down, letting them pile on the floor in front of the chair before tossing his Starlfeet-issued shirt on the floor too. He’s completely naked, glistened with sweat and flushed green all over. No, Jim thinks. It’s this image that’s the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen.

Spock goes to lay on the bed. “Would this be efficient?” Spock asks, patting the spot next to him.

Jim nods hungrily and goes to lay next to Spock, swinging one leg over Spock’s legs, the rest of his body pressed against Spock’s side as he wraps his hand once again around Spock’s cock and chokes it down, letting his other hand have even better access to rub at Spock’s taint and asshole. It’s a bit easier for him, sucking cock in an up and down motion than a side-to-side motion, and despite any tiredness in his jaw he continues massaging and sucking, his tongue making patterns he’d love to draw out someday. 

And then Spock is grabbing Jim’s leg forcefully and Jim yelps in confusion as Spock moves Jim’s crotch to just above Spock’s mouth, Spock licking at Jim’s head hungrily. Jim moans around Spock’s cock and begins to deepthroat Spock so earnestly a lesser experienced man would’ve vomited by now. Spock’s using techniques Jim’s never even tried before, and he realizes at some point he’s going to need Spock to give him a crash course in those moves.

But for now Jim is just enjoying the heat of the moment, his balls tightening as he feels his orgasm beginning to surface. “

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” he gasps as he lips hover over Spock’s cock, a string of spit connecting them. And then Jim cries out as he comes into Spock’s mouth, feeling Spock swallow all the way around it like a pro. And then Spock is coming into Jim’s mouth, and if he can believe it, it’s a heavier load than the one he took just a minute ago. He swallows what he can, some spilling back onto Spock’s cock. He laps it up gently and kisses Spock’s cock a few more times before rolling off of Spock and panting loudly as they both look up at the ceiling. 

“I confess,” Spock says after a quiet minute, “that after all of this, I have become covered in perspiration and require a cleaning. Everywhere.” He gives his cock a yank. “Would you like to assist me in the cleaning process in the bathroom?”

Jim grins. “You don’t have to ask me twice. BUT,” he says, looking over to Spock, “on one condition.”

Spock raises an eyebrow. 

Jim kisses Spock’s ear. “That you shampoo my hair while I’m cleaning your balls with my tongue.” 

Spock sighs and shivers. “To clean spit from my testicles with more spit is obviously illogical.” 

Jim smirks. “You’re saying you don’t want help in the cleaning process?” 

“I did not say _that._ ”

A half hour later Jim’s hair is covered in lavender shampoo, and his face is covered in another load of Spock’s come. 

The perfect afternoon.


	5. Day 5: Masturbation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masturbation. Tension. Fun.

The word feels weird on his tongue, so Jim says it a few times in order to get it just right with standard pronunciation. 

“T’Leith.”

“Yes,” Spock replies patiently. The two are sitting on Spock’s bed in Spock’s quarters, which has essentially more or less become Jim’s quarters as well, what with his clothes and pile of PADDs strewn everywhere except the tight, neat little corner that is occupied with Spock’s own things. And as a Vulcan, naturally there aren’t many things to fill the corner. 

Jim absentmindedly lets his fingers slip through and caress Spock’s, enjoying the subtle warmth and jolt that each little movement of the pads of their fingers brings. “And it’s a sort of form of,” Jim feels his face flush slightly, “masturbation.”

“It _is_ masturbation,” Spock says matter-of-factly. “It is a sacred Vulcan act in which all partners involved, typically two, are stripped and are seated across from one another. One partner watches as the other touches themselves—ideally until an orgasm is reached—and vice versa.” 

Jim nods absently as he continues looking down at their fingers. “Well that’s uh.” He chuckles slightly as he looks up at Spock, who lifts one eyebrow in his signature inquisitive expression. 

“I’m just surprised Vulcans took some time off from having a stick up the ass to actually give names to sexual acts,” Jim says, wondering if his joke will offend Spock. But it doesn’t seem to, as Spock just lifts his eyebrow again, but this time more in amusement. Jim finds it funny that he’s known Spock lock enough to distinguish what eyebrow raise means what. 

“Oh, uh, aside from Pon Farr, I mean.” _That_ had been an interesting discussion between the pair. 

“It seems that evolution, no matter where it extends in the galaxy, is universal in some respects—the need for sexual contact being one of those,” Spock says thoughtfully, almost like he’s giving a lecture at the academy instead of sitting in his quarters having hand sex with his boyfriend. 

“And you’re wanting to try this tonight?” 

“If you are up for it.” Spock lets his hand rest against Jim’s inner thigh, and Jim is half-hard before he even knows it. Spock looks back up at Jim with a glint in his eye that made Jim want to fuck and suck him silly in the first place. But fuck, it’s not fair, Spock touching his cock now and then wanting not to. But now that Jim sits and thinks about it, this T’Leith shit sounds hot as fuck. He remembers that the foreplay of wanting Spock so much was almost as hot as the first time they finally got together, letting all that unresolved sexual tension finally resolve itself in some goddamn amazing ways. 

Jim smirks right back at Spock’s small smile, looking down at where Spock’s hand is still over his clothed cock. “Well, someone is sure up for it. But,” he says, lifting Spock’s hand from his cock and entwining their fingers again, “might want to move your hand before I come in my pants right now.”

Spock lets out a sigh so small it might not have been detected had the room not been so quiet. “Indeed.’ 

With that Jim stands up, shaking out his limbs and reaching for the hem of his shirt. “So how does this work? Are we gonna sit on the bed or what?” 

Spock’s hand moves to Jim’s to stop Jim from lifting his shirt. “Firstly, it is better if we are seated in chairs. Please retrieve your desk chair from your room. And…” Spock hesitates. “Please come back fully unclothed.”

Now it’s Jim’s turn to raise an inquisitive brow. “Uh, okay? Isn’t the teasing art of the whole thing? Sort of like, ‘Look but don’t touch’ to the extreme?” 

“Indeed it can be, but in this case I would like to keep as much with tradition as possible.” 

Jim chuckles. “Come on, Spock, when have we ever been traditional? Seems like we always throw a little kink in things somehow. Pun intended.” He winks and feels a sudden burst of amusement mixed with tenderness when he sees Spock look away with a flush of green to his cheeks. 

“…Yes, that may be true. But I fear…” He glances at Jim’s exposed midriff briefly as Jim yawns and stretches before looking away again. “I fear should you strip for me I may experience a release much earlier than I had anticipated.” 

“So you don’t want to come in your pants just yet.”

Spock finally looks over at Jim with a devilish grin and walks over to him, placing a hand on the nape of Jim’s neck and bringing their heads together in a surprisingly tender gesture. “Not yet, no,” he whispers so softly, and places a chaste kiss to Jim’s lips. But before Jim can think further they’re both on the bed rolling around, lips covering every part of the others’ face, and Jim can feel Spock’s erection grinding against his own leg. And normally he’d reach down to grab, but he doesn’t want Spock to come yet, wants to respect Spock’s wishes.

But then Spock is letting out a groan and a gasp in his signature orgasm sound, and Jim stills underneath him as Spock freezes but continues to pant, his breath tickling Jim’s ear. 

“Are you okay?” Jim finally whispers into the silence, and he can feel Spock nodding, his forehead pressed into Jim’s gold-clad shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Jim whispers after a beat, and Spock lifts his head to look into Jim’s face, thumbs caressing Jim’s cheeks. 

“There is nothing to apologize for. I find…” Spock gulps. “I often find myself wanting you, even at inappropriate intervals, and I am content whenever I can have you.” 

Jim takes a second to translate the Spock Speak and smirks up at his lover. “So what you’re saying is, there have been times on the bridge when you should’ve been monitoring nebulas, but instead you’re sitting there thinking of wailing on my ass instead.” 

“…Not in so many words.”

“Uh huh,” Jim laughs at Spock’s roundabout assent. “So, he finally says, letting his hands rub up and down Spock’s clothed back, leaning up to press a small kiss to the corner of Spock’s mouth. “So, do you wanna do the no pants dance now? Or what?”

Spock looks like he doesn’t want to, but pushes off of Jim and stands up. “I would still like to try the T’Leith actually. Clearly, with my…release…it would be pertinent for you to be the one to masturbate first. It will take me at least 15.78 minutes before another release is possible.” 

Jim pushes himself up and gives Spock a bewildered look. “You mean you’ve masturbated so much in your life that you’ve got it down to a science how long it takes you in between orgasms, Science Officer?” 

Spock looks away, blushing once more, and Jim raises his hands in capitulation before heading towards the bathroom that connects their quarters. “Alright, lemme grab that chair. Be ready for me.”  
He grabs some lotion from the sink and turns back, tossing it at Spock who, of course, flawlessly catches it. “Gonna need that too,” Jim says, winking, and as he walks into the room he knows that Spock is inevitably blushing even harder. 

He closes the door to his quarters and immediately strips down so quickly his dick slaps against his stomach and he laughs. But his laugh falters as he reaches for the chair in his room and realizes that it’s quite heavy, and he’s probably gonna have to press it against his dick. And this isn’t even the weirdest revelation/realization he’s had before a sexual tryst. 

So Jim thinks about his third grade teacher nature and that picture of Margaret Thatcher that used to frighten him when he was a little boy, and broccoli, and all the other things that will keep him from coming all over his seat as the chair rubs against him. He opens the bathroom door and makes his way back into Spock’s quarters, slamming the heavy chair down, and means to lecture Spock about having _him_ carry the fucking heavy chair next time. But any words die on his lips as he finally takes in the image of Spock completely naked and seated, his expression one of unfettered hunger, his dick a slightly green color and clearly glistening at the slit with just a hint of precome. 

Normally Jim would go over and wrap his lips around his boyfriend’s cock, sucking up any precome he can (is it weird to like the taste?) before choking on Spock, but that’s not the point of this exercise. So instead Jim works to move his chair in front of Spock, realizing his ass is more or less right in Spock’s face. He amusingly gives it a little shake, and smiles with achievement as one hand strokes up his right cheek. But then the hand drops.

“Sit,” Spock says with a voice of equal parts lust and authority. Fuck. Between the chair rub and Spock’s hot-as-fuck authoritative tone, this won’t take Jim long at all. Probably better for both of them. Maybe after the T’Leith Spock can fuck Jim raw. As Jim sits he can tell the thought of Spock spreading his cheeks and driving in home has already caused him to leak some precome himself, and Jim looks down at his cock hesitantly. 

“Are you ready to begin?” Spock asks patiently, his hands planted firmly on his knees like some ancient king as he stares across at Jim. Who nods a bit nervously and does a cliched gulp before Spock leans forward and puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. “No matter what you do Jim, I find it…stimulating. I just wish to make sure you’re comfortable with doing this.” 

Jim takes a few shallow breaths before giving Spock a hard stare. “You might wanna go sit back in your seat.” 

Spock inclines his head.

“Because if you get much closer I’m going to come right onto your stomach. And I wanna do this right.” 

He hears Spock give a groan like someone told they can’t have their dessert, and Spock goes to sit in his seat, his hands decidedly avoiding his own cock. With a renewed sense of confidence Jim takes a dab of lotion from the container on the bed, grips himself, and lets his thumb spread the precome around the head for a couple of cycles before beginning to jack in earnest, one hand cupping his balls as the other strokes. 

Jim keeps eye contact with Spock, whose lustful look is almost so intense it resembles a look of hatred, and normally Jim would look away. But he sticks to his guns and maintains his stare with his man, only ever leaving Spock’s gave to look at Spock’s cock, which is still glimmering on the head. 

Jim decides to be a bit more creative if he’s going to go for this, so he lets himself forget Spock is there and lets his head fall back and eyes close, letting out the normal whimpers he saves for the privacy of his bedroom when Spock isn’t around—or when he was single. And then he _really_ lets himself lose it, removing his hand from his balls to reach behind him and tease his asshole. He pushes the finger in and moans around it, speeding up his panting and taking a brief look at Spock, who is set in stone but heaves breaths loudly as he watches his lover. Jim fucks himself with his finger harder, pushing in a second finger, and jacks harder, faster, almost to the point of a chafe if he didn’t have the lotion. 

And then there it is, an orgasm rocking through him and wrecking him as he feels the come splash onto his chest nearly reaching up to his neck. He pulls out his fingers and collapses back in his seat, gasping for air and stability and _GOD_ , god god, it was perfect, it was so fucking perfect. He looks over at Spock, whose expression hasn’t changed. Jim takes that to be a good thing, but _just_ as a test, he reaches down to his chest, flicks some come onto his finger and sucks it off sensually, looking over at Spock as he swallows.

And that’s what does it. Finally, Spock seems to be shaken from his lustful reverie of watching Jim and reaches for his own cock, giving it calm, calculated jerks with one hand, his other hand resting on his knee, his eye contact never breaking with Jim’s. Jim smirks and continues to take tiny tastes of his own come as he watches Spock continue with his measured jerks. It would almost be boring to watch if it wasn’t Spock, but as such it’s perfect. 

But Spock must see something in Jim’s expression because eventually he’s letting himself loosen up, letting his stroking hand fall lower down his cock and back up with a twist move someone has probably tried to patent. His other hand finally leaves his knee and reaches not for his balls or his asshole, but to his nipples. 

Spock’s jerks on his cock get slightly faster as he teases and pulls at his nipples with his thumb and pointer finger, and his breathing starts to get more shallow. Jim feels himself harden once again (damn, that was quick), and instinctively goes to reach for it but catches himself just in time and grips his hands so hard onto his knees he knows he’s leaving fingernail marks. 

Spock’s expression is no longer one of concentration but is now of unchecked ecstasy, his eyes still meeting Jim’s as he lets out the first whimper, which Jim feels all the way to the base of his balls. And the whimpers continue as he moves his hand from his nipples to tug at his nuts in earnest, and Jim would like nothing more than to place a kiss there like he has so many times before—to lick up Spock’s unique taste and to nip at his inner thigh and to swallow all of him. 

And it’s like Spock is becoming more adept at reading Jim’s mind without touch (they’re working on it), because suddenly he bucks up even higher and whimpers, “Swallow me.”

“What?” Jim breathes. But Spock can’t answer as he enters into the beginning of his orgasm. And Jim does as his boyfriend asks, falling to his knees and letting his lips wrap around the head of Spock’s cock, just in time to feel the warmth shooting into his mouth. Spock cries out and continues pumping, and goddamn it’s a huge load. But Jim swallows down every last bit, making eye contact with Spock as Spock runs his fists through Jim’s hair. 

He goes to get up when Spock jerks him back down. “Clean,” Spock commands. And Jim is grateful for the opportunity to gingerly run his tongue along Spock’s cock to soak up any leftover splashes of come. He finishes and presses a chaste kiss to the head of Spock’s cock before getting back up and sitting in his own chair, the two just staring at each other momentarily. 

Finally, Jim relents in speaking first. “Okay, so….Now that that’s done, can I take care of myself?” He gestures towards his throbbing cock. “Cause holy shit, Spock. I’m already about to burst. Again. Like, already.” 

Spock looks at Jim’s cock and back up into Jim’s blue eyes. “No,” he states. 

Jim raises an eyebrow. “Uh, okay, but—“ 

And suddenly it’s Spock down on his knees in front of Jim, licking him from base to tip. “No, you may not,” he murmurs against Jim’s shaft, “Because I want to do it for you.” 

Jim grins like a fucking fool down at Spock, and lets his hands cradle his head in a relaxed pose as Spock takes Jim into his mouth all the way down to the base. 

Sure the T’Leith was fun.

But nothing beats that Vulcan touch.


End file.
